


Stay (A)head of the Case

by elletromil



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Sleepy Hollow Fusion, Deal with a Devil, F/M, Getting Together, Horror, Investigations, M/M, Magic, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In the relative comfort of the carriage bringing him to Sleepy Hollow, Merlin scoffs as he revises the facts that are known about the case he's being sent to investigate.</i>
</p><p>
  <i> There are already three victims, the Heskeths, father and son, as well as a certain widow Winship, and the only suspect is a Headless Horseman? Who could ever believe such rubbish really? Whoever the true perpetrator of those murders is, they must be having a jolly time indeed.</i>
</p><p>In which Merlin is a constable from New York sent to Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay (A)head of the Case

**Author's Note:**

> First I want to thank all my fluffernutters for listening to me complain these past few weeks about this monster of a fic and helping me out with the plot.
> 
> A special thanks to mitslits for the amazing pun-y title and another to my pandamuse Dia for reading it and encouraging me while I was writing :3
> 
> And now some blabla because well, what are notes if not for some author's blabla?
> 
> So back when the challenge was first announced I decided on my other Reel, the Night at the Museum one, but I hesitated a while between that movie and this one. I end up asking if I could do two movies instead of just the one and since I was answered yes, well here it was.
> 
> It is now that I understand how much of a masochist I am. Since I thought the NatM one would be the longest, I decided to write that one first and wait for the Sleepy Hollow one. I figured it would be around 5k at most. As you can see from the 12k, nearly 13k of this fic, I was _oh so wrong_. Anyway.
> 
> This fic is heavily based on the movie (I watched the movie 3 times to write this story... and one of that time, i rewind and fast forward and rewind again so many time that i must have watched it like 10 times more) and while I think it'll still understandable without having seen it, knowledge of it can only help you. I've tweaked a lot of it for many reasons, so while it still follow the basic plot, it deviates from it at some points.
> 
> Also, much of the dialogue in this has been heavily drawn from the actual dialogue of the movie. I changed some things around, again for plot reason, but I don't claim that I came with any of it all of my own.
> 
> Anyway... I hope you enjoy it :D

In the relative comfort of the carriage bringing him to Sleepy Hollow, Merlin scoffs as he revises the facts that are known about the case he's being sent to investigate.

There are already three victims, the Heskeths, father and son, as well as a certain widow Winship, and the only suspect is a Headless Horseman? Who could ever believe such rubbish really? Whoever the true perpetrator of those murders is, they must be having a jolly time indeed.

He dreads having to deal with a bunch of superstitious villagers that probably won't be looking too kindly to a stranger butting into what they deem their private business, no matter that they are the ones who asked for a constable from New York. However, there is nothing he can do about it. If he wants to come back to the city with a job waiting for him, he must solve the case.

The quicker the better.

*

Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the village itself, but as soon as he steps out of the carriage, Merlin feels uncomfortable, as if a heavy weight has settled somewhere in the vicinity of his stomach.

Were he that kind of man, he would say he’s got a _bad feeling_ about the place, but thinking rationally about the situation, it has probably more to do with his meager lunch earlier in the day, the hours of traveling he’s unused to and the unfamiliar settings.

A good meal and the warmth of a bed is most probably all he needs to chase his _malaise_ away.

He forces himself to walk with assurance to the house that is supposed to belong to his host for the duration of his stay, one Chester King.

In a village like Sleepy Hollow, it is definitely an opulent house, but when he gets inside, it has a homely feel to it that is lacking to all the wealthy houses of New York that Merlin has been to while performing his duties as a constable.

Although he has to admit his perception might be clouded by the party currently held inside and the merry atmosphere reigning inside thanks to it.

He spots who he thinks might be the master of the house in the far back, past a group of young people that cannot be far older than twenty of age, playing some kind of game.

“Pickety witch, pickety witch, who’s got a kiss for the pickety witch?” A young woman with her eyes blindfolded is saying in a sing-song voice, the rest of her friends dispersing around the room to escape her with soft chuckles.

As there is no way to avoid them, he cuts through the group and only understand the error of such a strategy when he’s grabbed by the lapel of his coat by the young woman and he has no other choice but to stop.

“Harry? Is that you?” She asks him while lightly tracing her fingers on his features. Before he can answer her in the negative, her fingertips brush against his bald head and a small snort escapes her, one that Merlin really shouldn’t find adorable. “No, not Harry.”

“Sorry Miss, I am only a stranger,” he replies at last, hoping she will release him now and continue her game. She does nothing of the sort, her smile growing impish instead and it is a true pity he cannot see her eyes with the blindfold still around her head.

“Stranger or not, the pickety witch shall have her kiss,” she tells him just before pressing her lips against his cheek. Judging by her cheeky smile when she leans away, it is no coincidence she caught the corner of his mouth in the fleeting contact. Her smiles only widens in appreciation when she removes the piece of clothing covering her eyes and takes a first look at Merlin.

It truly is a pity that her eyes had been covered.

Before he can say anything however, a man that seems to be about the same age as Merlin comes between them, his suspicious scowl doing very little to mar his attractiveness.

“Who are you? I don’t think I caught your name,” the man is obviously trying for threatening, but after years as a constable in New York, it would take a lot more to intimidate Merlin.

“That’s because I have not said it yet. If you’ll excuse me,” he makes to turn around, but the young man grab him by the shoulder to stop him from walking away.

“You need to learn some manners!” Merlin tenses up, prepared to defend himself if need be. He might not look like much, but he can hold his ground, especially against some village bully. 

“Harry! Stop it!”

“We don’t know him Roxanne!” His expression softens when he looks at her, but he doesn’t step away nor does he let Merlin go. “You sh-” Whatever he wanted to say is cut off by his little yelp of surprise when the young woman lightly punch his shoulder in frustration.

“Seriously, Harry, it’s not like you to be this rude,” whether this is true or not, Merlin doesn’t know, but he cannot really hold it against him when the young man is only trying to protect his friend from a perceived danger.

“Now, now, no raised voice!” The older man Merlin had thought to be his host steps in before the situation can deteriorate even more. “You must be constable Merlin, we’ve been warned about your impending arrival.” A pointed look to Harry makes him lose his hold, but rather than looking apologetic, he rather looks like a spoiled brat that’s been denied dessert. “I’m Chester King and I see you’ve already met my daughter Roxanne and her fiancé, Harry Hart.”

The bigger man, Merlin nods at the both of them, even if he’d rather punch Harry in the face if half given the chance.

Either oblivious to the lingering tension or purposefully ignoring it, Chester continues his introduction. “Might I introduce you to my wife, Gazelle King.”

The way the woman smiles at him would have made the hair raised at the back of his head if he still had had any left. “A pleasure to meet you constable. Sleepy Hollow is grateful of your presence here.”

He mumbles something in return and nearly sighs in relief when Chester leads him away seconds later to speak with the four town elders about the recent tragic events.

The old wife’s tale about a Hessian Horseman raising up from the dead they tell him might be utter rubbish, but it is better than to stay under the cold calculating gaze of Lady King.

*

Merlin wakes up from the dream-like memory slightly panicked, fearing for a moment that somehow _he_ ’ll be standing in a dark corner of his room, waiting to drag him to the same place _he_ dragged his mother.

He sighs once he gets his heart beating at a slower pace. Of course Sleepy Hollow would bring back memories he’d rather forget. That he didn’t envisioned the possibility before being plagued by the old nightmarish memory is a bit vexing. At least this time around, he got to dream of his mother before what happened that dreadful day for a bit until the dream turned horrific.

He knows from experience that it is not always the case.

Knowing sleep will evade him for a while and hating to stay idle, he dons a robe that has been conveniently left to his intention and gets out of his room to explore the rest of his lodgings. He should have done so before going to bed tonight, but travelling from New York and having to deal with the atmosphere of suspicion once he had returned to the party after his talk with the town elders had left him too exhausted to do much else but fall into his bed, falling alseep as soon as his head touched his pillow. If only that had meant no dreams at all however, Merlin would have prefered it.

After a few minutes, confident he’ll remember the layout of the house as need be, he finally directs his feet toward what he thinks is a study room, a light under the door luring him into the room.

“Oh!” he cannot stop from gasping in surprise when he notices there’s already an occupant in the room. “I’m sorry, I saw the light and didn’t think-” he interrupts himself when he realises how stupid it would sound that he wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the room when there was a light on at this hour of the night. His nightmare must have rattled him far more than he thought. “I’ll just… I’ll go back to my room.”

“You don’t have to. At least, not on my account.”

Even with Roxanne gesturing to him to take a seat, he really shouldn’t stay, the rudeness of leaving cancelled by the inappropriateness of staying, but he finds he cannot resist the young woman’s smile.

Well, if he is being honest, the smile does help, but after tonight’s dream, even Harry’s open distrust would be a welcomed distraction.

He’s grateful to her that she isn’t asking him if he has trouble sleeping.

While it would be the polite thing to do, the answer is quite obvious.

Instead, she lets him be, returning to her book, even if he senses she isn’t entirely focused on her reading.

“What are you reading?” He usually loathes small talk, but as soon as he asks the question, Merlin finds he truly cares about the answer, truly wants to know if the young woman is more than just the pretty face she appears to be at first glance.

“It was one of my mother’s book,” Roxanne looks a bit guilty, like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing. “My father doesn’t really like me reading them. He thinks tales of romance caused the brain fever that took my mother from us two winters ago.”

“Oh, I am sorry for you loss,” he says rather awkwardly, even though the revelation came as no true surprise. It had been rather easy to determine that the current Lady King shared no family resemblance with Miss Roxanne and thus her mother must had died some time ago.

She shrugs, indicating it is nothing, that she has done her mourning and doesn’t mind talking about it. “The nurse who cared for her during her sickness is now Lady King.”

That makes him frown a bit, but she doesn’t elaborate any further and Merlin changes the subject rather clumsily by asking if she has any other family in the village.

“Well, you could say the entire village is my family. You see, there is barely any household in Sleepy Hollow than is not connected to every other, either by blood or through marriage.”

That tidbit of information shouldn’t be as interesting to Merlin as he finds it to be, but for a man of reason and logic such as himself, he has never truly been able to give up following his instincts and so he starts subtly interrogating the young woman about the different families and the lands, his usual social awkwardness forgotten now that his conversation is related to the case at hand.

At least that’s what he tells himself, because he refuses to think it simply has to do with how charming he finds Roxanne to be and how easily she can make him comfortable in her company.

He leaves her an hour later with the promise to go see the old cottage she grew up in with her and having been gifted with a book he has no intention to read but won’t ever part with if he can help it. He makes sure to leave it on top of his clothes before removing his robe, so that he won’t forget to put it in his inside pocket the next morning.

Sentimentality is not something he is used to, but he did promise Miss Roxanne to keep it close to his heart, even if he doubts it will offer him any protection no matter what the young woman might believe.

*

Having planned to go examine the crime scenes even if he has little hopes of finding any meaningful evidence days later, Merlin is already on his borrowed horse when he hears the call about the other murder.

Had he been another man, he might have rejoice at the idea of fresh evidence, but he only feels sick and angry at the thought that his presence has not deterred the killer from striking again.

The same men he has met yesterday at King’s house are waiting around the corpse plus a few more, all looking grim, not that he can blame them. In a small community like Sleepy Hollow, a death is always a hard hit to bear and this is the fourth of what appears to be senseless murders.

The attitude of every member of the little group of yesterday’s meeting is a bit different than all the other men present, as if their fear is more tangible. As if they know more than they let on.

Unfortunately, the fear isn’t enough to make them slip up yet and his suspicions aren’t enough to call them out on it. So early in his investigation, Merlin needs all the help he can get and he’s already lost a potential ally in Harry after how he behaved yesterday, judging by the dark looks he keeps throwing at him as he makes his way to the corpse of the victim.

“The victim is Lee Unwin, he was standing guard last night.”

Merlin vaguely remembers seeing a man getting up in the guardhouse when he was going through the village, but given the lack of head, he would be hard pressed to say if it is the same man he saw.

“Where is the head?

“Taken,” comes the reply from magistrate Valentine. From all that are presently gathered, he’s the one who seem the more ill at ease, looking everywhere but at the ground where the victim lays.

That gives Merlin pause. Usually the head is taken to prevent the victim from being identified, but the purpose now was definitely other. “Why would you take the head?” He ponders out loud, but of course, no one has an answer for him.

There is very little for him to do but to examine the body and he gets out his personal instruments, most of which he designed himself. He thinks he hears Harry makes a sound of curiosity, but when he looks over, the young man is visibly doing is best to look bored and unimpressed. In other circumstances, Merlin might have tried to use this time to mend the rift between them, but finding the killer is far more important than soothing a bruised ego.

As it is, his examination is rather short and straightforward.

While he’ll probably check over the body once it has been brought back to the mortuary to make sure he has not missed any wound concealed by the clothes, it is rather obvious that the cause of death his decapitation and this is the area he looks at more closely.

“Hmm, interesting.”

“What is?” Harry asks him, forgetting again about their private feud.

“The wound was cauterized in the very instant, as though the blade itself was red-hot. Yet, there is no trace of blisterings, no scorched flesh.”

“The devil’s fire,” comes magistrate Valentine’s whine, before the man faints abruptly.

*

Merlin has never really minded cemeteries, even though he will admit he’s always felt uncomfortable whenever he needs to attend a service.

The misplaced guilt at not having been able to prevent Master Unwin’s death makes it worse today. Of course, he knows there was probably nothing he could have done inside of one night to save the man from his fate, but he cannot help but feel he should have used his bout of insomnia better than by having a conversation with Miss Roxanne, no matter how lovely he finds the young woman to be.

He wishes he could have avoided going altogether, but his discomfort is a small price to pay to show his respect.

Still, he stays far at the back of the crowd and lingers behind in the hopes he won’t have to talk to anyone. His hopes turn out to be for naught, because as soon as the crowd is mostly dispersed, a lad that he recognizes as young Master Unwin walks up to him.

“Sir! I want to help,” he cannot be older than sixteen, but he already has the determination and confidence of a man thrice his age. “I want to avenge my father.”

“While I thank you for the offer young Unwin, your mother will surely need you much more than I do.”

From the way the lad’s face fell, something tells Merlin it wasn’t the thing to say.

“My mother is in heaven, Sir. My father will care for her now.”

He would kick himself for not realising sooner that the absence of anyone near the lad during the funerals meant that there was no longer any Mrs. Unwin in this world either. Still he refuses to think the lad has no other family to speak of.

“A sibling perhaps?”

That earns him a wistful look from the lad and a shake of his head, “I am the only Unwin left. Please sir, you have no one to serve you, let me be the one.”

He hates to see the lad who looked so proud barely a minute ago, now resorting to pleading and he wishes it could be otherwise, but he cannot in any good conscience accept his help. 

“You’re really brave Master Unwin, but I cannot be the one to look after you.”

“But you wouldn’t have to! I know how to be on my own, but I want to help!” His outburst makes some of the still lingering villagers turn to look at what is the cause of the commotion. However, except for Harry Hart who freezes in place when he notices who exactly the lad is talking to, they all turn away quickly.

“I am sorry for your loss, but it is far too dangerous.” He very awkwardly taps the lad’s shoulder in comfort, not missing the way Harry’s eyes narrows threateningly at the contact, but he pays it no mind for now.

He forces himself to walk away, not to be swayed into doing something he’ll regret once he notices how deflated the lad is. To his credit, young Unwin doesn’t try to stop him again, instead going back to stand at his father’s grave. Yet, Merlin doesn’t go far before he’s stopped again, this time by magistrate Valentine.

“Constable Merlin!” The man doesn’t look any better than when he fainted in the forest one day prior, but there is an urgency in his voice that makes Merlin give him all his attention. “There is something you should know…”

It makes Merlin raise an eyebrow, but he knows better than to rush the man into talking, not when he looks ready to bolt at an time.

“Unwin wasn’t the fourth victim… He was the fifth.”

“The fifth?” Merlin repeats dumbly. No one had ever mentioned a fifth victim before.

“Yes the fifth… There are five victims, but in four graves.”

Merlin wished he could have interrogated the magistrate further on his cryptic revelation, but the Reverend coming back up the road to them spooks the man before the constable can say a word.

Merlin is left staring at the graves and the inkling of a theory slowly forms into his mind as he remembers who one of the victim was. His gaze fall on the lad still standing at his father’s grave and he sighs in defeat. Now more than ever, he’ll need all the help he can get and beggars can’t be choosers.

“Young Unwin!” He calls out before he can change his mind again, waiting for the lad to turn to look at him before continuing. “Find a place in the King’s servants’ quarters. Wake me before dawn. I hope you have a strong stomach.”

The lad looks confused but nods anyway before Merlin leaves the cemetery for good, passing a rather angry looking Harry Hart on his way back to King's House.

*

It might be foolish to walk around Sleepy Hollow as the sun is setting while there is a killer on the loose, but Merlin needs to talk to that magistrate now.

Of course he knew the men he had met a few days earlier were hiding things from him, but without any concrete proof, he had deemed it unwise to confront them.

But Valentine had been the one who came to him about the fifth victim, the one that had lead him to the discovery that the Widow Winship had been with child. It leads Merlin to think it wouldn’t take much to get him to talk and reveal the information he needed to solve the case.

He’s been wandering for the past half hour now, hoping he would run into Valentine after having no luck at his home. He would think the man is merely hiding from him, but the maid had answered the door, and if she had seemed terrified, he doesn’t think she was lying when she told him he wasn’t home yet.

He’s crossing over the small bridge on the edge of the town when he hears it, the sound of hoofs hitting the ground rhythmically. He’s ashamed to admit his blood turns cold and panic settles low in his belly, but at least he doesn’t go so far as to turn around and run away.

Instead he stands his ground, trying to see into the darkness who is coming.

“Who’s there?” he calls out, proud that his voice isn’t shaking in the slightest, unlike his knees.

No one answers, but he can just make out the form of a horseman in the distance, the glow of twin flames hovering in mid-air ominously making the shadow appear even more threatening.

Deciding it is high time he listens to his instincts, he finally turns and starts running even if he know he is no match for a horse.

It comes as to no surprise that he truly isn’t, but at least by the time the horseman catches up to him, he’s no longer on the bridge and he can throw himself out of the way.

He jumps in fright when something smashes right besides his head, but at least he didn’t whimpered out loud.

Had it been the real killer, he has no doubt that it wouldn’t have made a difference to his fate, but as he recognized what smashed on the ground for a carved up pumpkin with candles lighting its insides, he can hear mocking laughter farther down the road where the horseman has stopped.

Now that his cape isn’t covering the top of his head anymore, it’s easy to see it is only Harry riding a dark horse.

Emboldened by the anger he feels at the shame of having been played for a fool, Merlin gets up, intent on giving the damned fool a piece of his mind.

Before he can take a step in his direction however, a bloodcurdling scream echoes in the night from the direction of the fields and Merlin thinks he’s not mistaken in thinking it is magistrate Valentine’s voice.

He hears Harry cursing sharply before riding in the direction of the fields, a sword Merlin hadn’t noticed before in his hand.

Merlin doesn’t stay idle for long either and quickly follows after him.

It’s minutes before he makes it to the field too, but he hears the clang of metal on metal that implies some sort of sword fight is going on.

Before he can further investigate, someone runs into him at full speed and it is only thanks to his fast reflexes that he doesn’t end up back on the ground.

He grabs magistrate Valentine by the arm before he can flee again, and even in the relative darkness it is easy to see he’s a lot worse for wear than when he had seen him earlier today when he had announced his findings on the Widow’s condition.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s the Horseman! It’s come to kill me because I talked to you! I know I shouldn’t have! Now let me go!” He tries to shake the hold off, but Merlin is deceptively strong, stronger even than a panicked man fearing for his life. While he doesn’t doubt someone truly is after the magistrate with the sounds of a fight close-by, he’s still convinced that the threat is flesh and blood and can be arrested.

“You helped me once, you can help me again! Tell me who was the father of that child!”

Valentine is about to answer, Merlin knows it, but there is a swift movement in the periphery of his vision and suddenly, Valentine’s head is rolling on the ground quickly followed by his body. Merlin is left staring at the headless Horseman and he is about to start praying to a God he hasn’t believed into in a long time when the Horseman lower his weapon and ignores him completely in favor of grabbing Valentine's head. Then he walks away and Merlin would have stayed standing dumbstruck for quite a while if not for Harry suddenly running out of the field after the Horseman.

The latter easily parries Harry’s attack and seems intent on paying him no mind, but the young man doesn’t relent even with the injuries he has already sustained and that Merlin can see clearly even in the distance and relative darkness.

“Harry, stop!” He tries to warn him, because while he might not have any true affinity for the young man, no one deserves to die needlessly. “He’s not after you!” He has ran up to them in the hopes of separating them up, but his yelling has disturbed Harry and the only reason he doesn’t lose his head is because Merlin’s shoulder gets in the way of the Horseman’s blow.

He yells in pain, but doesn’t let it deter him from his goal of stopping the man’s foolishness.

“You won’t stop him that way, it’s no use!”

Harry very obviously wants to protest but whatever he was about to say is cut off when the Horseman attacks again.

“Great! Now you’ve angered it!”

Adrenaline makes him stupid and he helps Harry by distracting the Horseman even though he his weaponless. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that they are no match for the devilish spirit, but some luck still clings to them both because the Horseman suddenly stops his attacks when all seem lost and actually leave them be even if something in the way of his walk makes him appear sullen.

This time, Harry stays put and they both lean against each other for support, panting for breath.

“You saved my life…” The words are said in a kind of wondered reverence that nearly makes Merlin start laughing hysterically.

“Truly, I don’t know what came over me. I should have let evolution keep his course and rid the human race of your stupidity.” As soon as he says the words, Merlin thinks he’s the one truly stupid here. Confronting the Horseman might have brought an unlikely truce between the two men, but it’s not like this that he’ll keep it.

To his surprise however, Harry merely snorts in amusement, “I like you.” He tries to detect any sarcasm, but there’s only honesty in the young man’s statement. Not for the first time, Merlin thinks he might have been to prompt to judge Harry’s character given the circumstances surroundings their first meeting and any subsequent ones. “I owe you my life… I am sorry that I misjudged you and for the way I have treated you… No hard feelings?”

“Oh no, _plenty_ of hard feelings!” He might have judged him too harshly, but he did just played an horrible prank on him and he cannot believe it has been no more than an hour ago. “But as you might just come in handy, I’ll let it go this once.”

“You plan to stay?” The wondered awe becomes awed respect.

“Did you really think you’d get off so easily?”

“No, of course not! I would have find a way to pay my life debt to you, but I would have thought that after tonight you would flee.” He would be angrier at the implication of his cowardice if not for the fact they had just faced a creature that shouldn’t have existed outside of old wives tales and any sensible man would have done just what Harry has suggested.

“I can’t tell you I am not very, _very_ tempted to do so, but I have learned something important from our little encounter tonight. The horseman might be real, but he isn’t on a mindless killing spree. He would have killed you for being in his way yes, but you were not its goal and it’s the only reason we are still alive. It leads me to believe that someone is controlling him with a definite purpose in mind.”

“That… That actually makes sense.”

“We need to establish the connection between the murders and we need to do it soon.”

Harry nods in agreement, but it’s not tonight that they’ll be able to make any progress on that front, especially not out in the fields. Without asking the other, they start to make their way back to King’s House.

*

Roxanne and Eggsy, as the lad told him he prefered being called earlier that day, are both waiting at the door when they finally make it back.

“Harry! Are you alright?” He would feel more annoyed that Eggsy is inquiring after Harry first when the lad has sworn to serve him as well as losing his support when Harry lets him go to lean against the lad instead, but he finds he doesn’t care much about either of them when Roxanne reaches out to steady him.

“Merlin, you look like you have seen a ghost!” It’s clear in her voice that she is nearly as worried for him as Eggsy was for Harry. It warms Merlin briefly until her words make the events of the night rush back to him.

“I actually did,” and with those words, he faints.

*

He wakes up in his rooms to Roxanne dressing the wounds he has sustained even though they do not bleed, having been cauterized by the hellish blade upon infliction.

She doesn’t notice he’s woken up until he speaks.

“Shouldn’t you be at Harry’s side?” Because much as he likes the young woman, he doesn’t want to start his feud with the other man again if he can prevent it.

“Harry?” She seems confused for a moment, before a small chuckle escapes her. “While he did sustained some injuries, I think it’s his pride that took the biggest hit tonight. He wouldn’t welcome me fussing over him.” Neither mention how welcoming he had seem to be of Eggsy’s help earlier.

“Isn’t he your fiancé?”

She huffs before rolling her eyes. “Only because of my meddling father. Harry is only a brother to me, as I am a sister to him. His heart belong to another.”

She doesn’t say more and he doesn’t press, taking her words as the only confirmation he needed to his own suspicions.

“What about you? Does your heart belong to another?” Usually even thinking of being so straightforward would have him stammering like a fool, but after tonight’s events, he feels as if he’s above everything. Luckily, Roxanne doesn’t seem to mind, even though her cheeks blush the most becoming pink.

“Not yet, but I think soon,” is her answer, before he is being pushed back against the mattress. “Now you must rest.” Her tone brooks no argument, but her eyes are fond and her lips soft against his skin where she kisses his forehead.

He dreams of his mother again, how could he not, but even if the memory turns into its usual nightmare, what stays with him when he next wakes up is the warmth of the love she had had for him.

*

“Why trust me though?” Harry asks him the next day as they are riding through the forest in the hopes of finding the Horseman’s grave. They both wish others would have followed to help them, but no one has agreed to come with them. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Eggsy had offered at once, but Merlin had refused to endanger him needlessly and had prefered to entrust him with keeping Miss Roxanne safe. Harry had not protested his plan.

“Why not?” he answers with a question, curious to know more about the thought process of his new ally.

“I mean yes, I attacked the Horseman, but if I control it, I knew it wouldn’t hurt me. It could have all been a ploy to throw suspicion elsewhere…”

The thought has indeed crossed Merlin’s mind, but the interactions he has witnessed between Harry and Eggsy since that day at the cemetery has been enough for him to dismiss it as quickly as it had come.

“True. And that you come to such a reasoning so quickly should alarm me,” because God only knows how many criminals liked to gloat when they felt they were still safe from justice, “but I don’t think you would ever do anything that would hurt young Master Unwin in any way.”

At the lad’s mention, Harry looks around quickly, as if afraid Eggsy, or anyone, would be hiding behind a tree, but of course they are still alone in the forest. To his credit however, Harry doesn’t get angry, nor does he try to deny the implications of the constable’s words.

“I could be a very good actor,” he replies instead, all defiance, even if Merlin can detect a small tremor of worry in his voice.

“You could, but I doubt it.”

He leaves it at that and after a moment, Harry nods, the two men having reached a silent understanding. Harry knows the dangers of his situation, for himself as well as Eggsy, even if Merlin doesn’t care about it in the least. Especially in a place like Sleepy Hollow, the safest course of action is to never speak out loud of these kind of secrets.

“What I still don’t see is what links all the victims together,” he’s not really expecting Harry to know the answer either, but he’s bound to have some kind of insight that will help Merlin.

“Well, Lee Unwin worked for the Heskeths, they let him live in the coach house with Eggsy.” He is about to add something more when he frowns suddenly, stopping his horse as if to better think. “You’ll have to ask Eggsy, but I remember him telling me he heard an argument between the father and the son about a week before the murder. It wasn’t entirely unheard of, but Mr. Hesketh sent for Eggsy’s father shortly after.”

It might be nothing, but it can also very well be one of the missing piece of this puzzle. He’ll have to ask Eggsy more details as soon as they come back from their little expedition.

Deep in thoughts, he misses the way Harry starts looking worriedly around them, straining as if to hear a far off sound. But besides the wind, there is nothing to hear in the forest.

“I think we shouldn’t linger any longer Merlin. The forest is too quiet to my liking.”

Now that it has been brought to his attention, Merlin finds he doesn’t like it any better than the other man and there is no need for Harry to repeat himself before they set off again, at a far quicker pace than they had started earlier in the day.

When the eerie singing starts, only sheer stubbornness stops Merlin from just turning back and ride until he’s made it back to New York. It takes a moment for them to spot the cave where the sounds come from and neither of them are really happy to dismount their horses so that they can walk inside.

The weight of his gun in his hand does a lot to keep him calm, much like Harry’s presence at his side. It is so weird how he has come to rely so much on the man in such a short time, but after surviving a fight with the Horseman together, maybe it is not that strange.

The insides of the cave are decorated with what one would expect to find in a witch’s lair and if Merlin wasn’t such a man of reason, he would say that something in the very air is queer. Not evil like the horseman per se, but definitely not the way being around his mother felt when he was still a young lad. It is something in-between, something unnatural, but not at the same time.

“You’re from the Hollow,” the sing-song voice comes from over by the fire, a vaguely feminine form haunched above a bubbling cauldron. There is something familiar to the voice, but Merlin cannot put his finger on it.

“Yes we are. We were hoping you could help us madam,” Harry’s voice is steady, but so is his aim on her back. “Do you know of the Horseman?” She stands up, an opaque veil covering her entire body and Merlin isn’t sure whether it makes her more or less creepy. He’s leaning towards the more. “The Hessian?”

She giggles a ‘yes’ while making a gesture mimicking someone getting their head sliced off before beaconing them to another corner of the cave. There is a table, covered in stuff Merlin prefers not trying to identify and the woman sits down on the bench closest to the wall, cuffing her own hands to chains nailed to it. “Sit down.”

He would rather stay standing, especially when he doesn’t know what to expect from her, but the fact she is chained is somewhat reassuring, much like knowing Harry is still pointing his gun at her, not wavering for a second. That she doesn’t seem to care would be unnerving, but unlike the Horseman, Merlin is convinced she is merely mortal and would be stop by gunfire.

“He rides… to the Hollow and back.” There’s a bit of fear in her voice as she starts picking up item on the table and mixing them in a bowl and Merlin shiver at the thought that even this witch is afraid of the Headless Horseman. “I hear him, I smell the blood on him.”

“You said he rode back… Where is that, do you know? I want to stop him.”

With the veil, it’s hard to know if she is paying any attention to what he says or if she focuses only on her preparations, whatever they might be for. He doesn’t try to hide his horror when she takes a bat from a basket and cuts off its head to add the blood to the mixture in her bowl, but he tunes out Harry’s urging for them to go.

“You seek knowledge of the netherworld? I can show you.” An acrid smoke is now rising from the bowl and she inhales it deeply. “Don’t move or speak, when the other comes, I will hold him.”

“The other?” If she hears him, he will never know because her head thumps hard on the table and she seems as if she lost consciousness. “Madam? Madam are you alright?”

Merlin is about to get closer so as to check on her when he remembers her warnings not to move.

“Merlin, let’s just go.” The moment Harry speaks is of course the moment she regains consciousness, only the chains around her wrists stopping her from succeeding in jumping over the table and grabbing Merlin. The movement makes the veil shift however and he can see what should be her face but looks more like a grotesque mask. The shock makes Harry drop his gun and Merlin nearly fall backwards.

“You seek the warrior bathed in blood.” Gone is the sing-song voice, replaced by something deeper, darker, _otherworldly_ even. “The Headless Horseman. Follow the Indian trail to where the sun dies. Follow it to the Tree of the Dead. Climb down to the Horseman’s resting place.” Her head hits the table again and this time Merlin doesn’t wait for Harry to tell him to go to stand up, staying just long enough to make sure the other man has recovered his gun and is following.

Once they are back on their horses, they don’t need to consult each other to ride in the Indian trail’s direction. They might not know what the tree of the dead look like, but something tells them they won’t have any problem recognizing it.

*

While there is a possibility they have the wrong tree as the Tree of the Dead unfortunately doesn’t come with any kind of convenient signpost, any doubts they had left are put to rest when Merlin’s fingers come off covered in blood rather than sap after he touches the bark of the twisted tree.

He shares a disgusted look with Harry before they both take the hatchets from their luggage and start hacking at the roots of the Tree that are above ground. They make quick work of it and they both step back in horror when the heads of all the Horseman’s victims rolls at their feet from where they had been stashed inside the bark.

“This tree is a gateway. A gateway between two worlds.” How he knows it, he isn’t sure, but Harry nods at his words, gesturing at an old sword covered in ivy a bit to the side of the tree.

Getting closer to investigate, Merlin notices at once that the ground has been disturbed and he asks Harry to bring the shovels.

It takes them a bit longer this time, but they finally unearth a skeleton, one that has been there for a long time from the looks of it. Something important is missing however.

“The skull is gone. Taken,” Merlin adds after a closer look reveals some disturbance on the bones. “That is why the Horseman return from the grave. To take a head until his own is restored to him.”

That his theory is now confirmed brings him little relief since they still don’t know who would be wicked enough to knowingly unleash the Horseman on the innocent.

“What shall we do now?” Harry asks him after they’ve been standing for a while, staring at the grave.

“I… I don’t know.”

For some reason, he had not thought what he would do after finding the Horseman’s grave. If it is truly as he suspects, if being in possession of its skulls is truly what gives whoever is behind it all the power to control the spirit, then there is very little they can do. They could try to destroy the skeleton of course, but he doubts it will actually stop a spawn of the Devil.

“Well, at least now we know what to look for. Let’s head back, it will start getting dark soon and I don’t want to get lost.” It would surprise Merlin an awful lot if Harry could manage to get lost even if those woods are not ones he’s used to travel, but he doesn’t point it out. To be honest, Harry is not the only one currently feeling ill at ease and he would rather put as much distance between the grave and themselves as humanly possible.

*

They can’t have been riding for more than half an hour when the sound of hoofbeats start echoing near them.

“But it still day!” Harry whispers in indignation. Merlin understand the feeling, but even if the attacks have followed a particular pattern so far, it doesn’t mean that the Horseman is bound to any laws. They share a frightened look at the realisation that their assumption might mean their ends. Their hands fall to their weapons not long after, even if they know already what little good it will do them if this is truly the Horseman.

The only thing that stops them from shooting on sight is the fact that there is two riders coming their way and that one is dressed in light colors. That and before the two newcomers have noticed them, one start to complain to his companion.

“I don’t care what you tell me, I do think we’re lost.”

“Eggsy?” His exclamation is one of half relief and half surprise. “What are you doing here lad? You were supposed to stay back at the house!”

Both Eggsy and Roxanne are startled enough that they can see them jump lightly on their horses, but, if they do look a bit sheepish at first, their expressions turn smug soon enough.

“Well, what you told me was to stay with Roxy…” He trails off at Merlin’s dark look, but doesn’t look away, defiant as ever.

““Roxy”?” Harry repeats in interrogation, but the young woman either doesn’t hear him or chooses to ignore his unasked question about her new nickname.

“None of that now!" The young woman directs her horse so that she comes between Eggsy and Merlin's furious glare. "He’s entirely right and you know it. It isn’t his fault I decided to follow you because no one else would go with you!”

Merlin opens his mouth to protest, but has to close it again with the realisation that they’ve never said anything to Roxanne about not following them. In the future, he’ll have to remember that the both of them are devious little buggers, but he kind of look forward to it. Life sure will stay interesting.

“Well, what is done is done now.” He lets them savour their victory for a moment before continuing. “But we’ve seen what we came for, we were actually heading back.”

They actually look disappointed that they’re too late to go look for the grave with them, but it quickly changes when Harry starts scolding them about it not being a game. It’s a small mercy he stops short of reminding them that there are actuall people who lost their lives, because while it might not really affect Roxanne, of course Eggsy knows intimately the dangers of the Horseman even if he might not _understand_ them, not having faced the devilish ghost himself.

The atmosphere among their little group is quite tensed for a while, but they all perk up a bit when they finally make it out of the forest.

“Look,” there is excitement in the young woman’s voice as she points at a habitation of a sort in the distance, “that’s the cottage I grew up in. Come on, I’ll show you!”

Before anyone can say anything, Roxanne has already rode to the edge of what could have been a cosy cottage in another life before it fell to disrepair.

Merlin turns to Harry, hoping to find an ally in him, but the other man only shrugs. “You have to learn to choose your battles with her and this? It isn’t worth it. Just don’t take too long, we’ll stay over here.”

The pointed look he gives him is a bit too amused for Merlin to not understand that the man is trying to giving some privacy with Roxanne. He would be more offended at the assumption, but instead he decides to take it the way Harry probably intends it: a way for the other man to show he’s giving the burgeoning relationship his blessings.

Before he leaves to follow Roxanne however he gives Harry a pointed look of his own, to let him know he is not fooled by what is happening. Merlin is not the only one who will get to spend some time alone with the one he holds dear. He has the satisfaction to see Harry's cheeks get rosier before he turns away, completely ignoring Eggsy’s look of confusion over the silent exchange.

By the time he dismounts, Roxanne is already inside by the hearth, even if the term “inside” can only be applied very loosely given there are only two stonewalls left standing and most of the roof has crumbled down.

“It was my first drawing school,” she starts to tell him as she takes a twig to trace something in the ashes, “and my mother was my teacher.”

When he takes a closer look at the symbol she’s drawn, he’s taken by an indescribable feeling. To this day, it still haunts his dreams and at her words, he wonders if maybe they might not share more common points together than he could have ever expected. However, since he knows of no way to voice his question, to ask her if maybe her mother had been like his, a child of nature, he lets her change the subject when she points at some carving still visible on the stone.

“Look, it’s the Archer! It was there long before we lived here.”

She steps back to let Merlin take a look himself, but he doesn’t examine it for long, far more preferring to focus his attention on the way she laughs with delight at the sight of a cardinal watching them from a branch.

“I’d love to tame one, but I don’t think I would have the heart to cage him,” she remarks when he comes to stand behind her.

“Then in that case, I think I have something to show you.”

And Merlin had never thought he could bear part with the only reminder of his mother he has left, but seeing the childlike wonder in Roxanne’s eyes as he makes the trinket twirl to reveal the optical illusion of a caged bird, he knows already he’ll give it to her. It is somewhat fitting, he finds himself thinking even when he closes her hands around it, since she’s given him one of her mother’s book a few nights ago. A priceless possession in exchanged for another.

As she opens her mouth, probably to protest such a gift, they can hear Eggsy yelling for them in the distance, shattering the moment between them. Even if he knows the lad is right, that it would be dangerous to stay here much longer when night is fast approaching, he still feels a bit disappointed that their time has been cut short.

*

The news of the Killians’ murders hit Merlin hard when Harry comes to tell them over breakfast, looking more grim even than when Eggsy’s father had been found. Not that Merlin is faring much better, not with the death of a innocent child now on his conscience too.

He had felt something akin to victory the previous day when they had found the grave, but now he feels foolish for ever feeling so.

Yes, they’ve confirmed the Horseman was controlled by someone of flesh and blood, but they are no closer to finding their identity, no closer to stopping them. And it now appears that no one is safe, not even in the security of their own homes.

“It’s my fault,” the words come with difficulty, because their truth is too heavy to bear.

“Merlin, no! Don’t say that!” It warms his heart to hear Roxy come to his defense, even against himself, but the feeling is soon soured by the cold hard reality. He doesn’t deserve this, not when three more have died.

“It is, I should have stop him somehow, this is what I am here for!” It doesn’t matter that he knows of no way to stop such a spirit, he cannot help but think that there must be one and he simply did nothing. He cannot help thinking that his mother would have known how to protect them all somehow. That if only he had been more studious in her teachings when there had still been time, then he could have put a stop to this waking nightmare!

Roxy opens her mouth again to protest, but Harry cuts her off.

“Merlin, with all due respect, you’re being an idiot.” They glare at each other for a while, but Harry is not to be deterred. “How do you propose we had stopped him? We barely survived an encounter with that devilish beast once, I don’t like our chances for a second time!”

“If I had found the mastermind behind it all-”

“Well, you didn’t last night, so now you know where your priority lies. Or you can stay there in your pity party while more people dies.”

The words are like a physical slap, exactly what he needed to shake him out of this non-sense.

“You’re right. We are definitely missing something important.” Something that must link all the victims together and would reveal the real motive behind the murders. “Eggsy come with me, I’ll need your help.”

Roxanne makes to follow them, but thankfully for Merlin, Harry stops her with a shake of his head. He must understand that no matter how much he enjoys her company, she’ll only be a distraction when he needs all his focus.

*

Merlin isn’t proud to admit it, but he’s gone out of his way to avoid Lady King since he has come to Sleepy Hollow. Something about her just unsettles him and it’s not a feeling he likes having.

Unfortunately, by the time he’s stepped into the kitchen to grab something to eat for Eggsy and himself, it’s too late turn back as she spots him right away, greeting him with an unnerving smile. It makes him regret not sending the lad instead, but he had needed a break.

“Ah Mrs King, good afternoon,” he ends up saying instead of fleeing, his good manners prevailing. “I was hoping for something to eat for me as well as young master Unwin,” he explains to her, waiting for her to wave to the pantry before starting to forage for food.

“How goes your investigation?” Her question startles him into dropping a jar of preserves, making it shatter on the ground. Before he can feel bad about it, he hears a pained gasp from behind him and turns to see the sound has startled the woman enough that she cut her hand.

While he might not like her personally, there is also no way he won’t help her tend to the injury. He winces at how deep the wound is and suggest fetching the doctor, but she waves him off.

“A bandage will suffice, thank you. I’ve had worse.” It is probably meant to be reassuring, but he finds her statement rather disturbing, especially with the mocking tilt of her smile. “You can leave the mess, I’ll take care of it.”

Any other time Merlin would have protested, but this time he takes the out he is being offered without a second thought, staying just long enough to grab some bread so that he will have something to show of his little expedition in the kitchen.

Lunch is all but forgotten when he gets back into his room only to find Eggsy trying to move the bed.

“You’ll hurt yourself trying to move this alone.” It doesn’t even cross his mind to ask the lad what he thinks he is doing, trusting him to have a good reason for doing so.

“I pushed a book under the bed by accident,” Eggsy explains when Merlin comes to help him, “but I noticed something strange when I went to take it back.”

What is revealed when they push the bed away leave them both speechless for a long time.

“The Evil Eye!” Eggsy is the first to shake himself out of his shock, even if it is only to take a few frightened steps back from the chalked drawing on the floor. Merlin would chastised him for being so superstitious, but he has been forced to reconsider a lot of things since his encounter with the Horseman and well, one can never be too much prudent. “Someone is trying to curse you!”

For some reason, instead of taking it as a symbol for him to back off, it only fills him with more determination and the feeling that the theory that has begun to form in his head after hours of looking through the evidences might just be right.

“Follow me young Unwin, I think the notary might hold the key to this investigation!”

Eggsy seems all too happy to leave the room now that what was under the bed all this time has been revealed to their eyes.

*

The notary’s office is a mess of papers and the man is nowhere in sight to help them sort through them, but Merlin doesn’t feel like waiting for him to come back from wherever he went. He cannot afford to lose any time, not when it might mean the difference between more senseless deaths and apprehending the mastermind between everything.

“Try to find anything that looks like a testament, Eggsy. It probably won’t be out in the open, so look through the cabinets as well. Begin by this end, we will meet in the middle.”

They never get to the middle of the office, because while he does not find the will he is looking for in the second cabinet he opens, Merlin finds the next best thing.

“Notary Hardenbrook.”

“Leave me alone,” the old man tells him, brushing past him. However, Eggsy cuts him off before he can leave, a satchel he didn’t have before now in his hands.

“That’s my father’s satchel. Why do you have it?”

“Why does it matter why I have it? It’s too late now, no one is safe anymore, just leave me alone!” But no matter how many times he tells Eggsy to let him pass, the lad doesn’t budge from his position, blocking the only way out.

“Show us the last will and testament of old man Hesketh, then I promise we will leave you be,” Merlin promises him, hoping it will be enough to sway him.

“It left everything to his son!”

He had suspected as much, but given the son died with him, the point his pretty moot. “But in the event of his son’s death, the estate passes to the next of kin.”

“Naturally, it-” Eggsy interrupts the notary before he can continue, handing Merlin a piece of paper he’s retrieved from his father’s satchel. At the sight of it, Hardenbrook loses the few colors he had left and start whimpering about being a dead man. Merlin would have pity on the man, but at the same time he cannot help but think that if those men had talked to him when he first arrived to Sleepy Hollow, none of this would have happened, he could have stopped the murderer much more sooner.

Tuck into the will is another official paper, this one a marriage certificate, stating the marriage of Widow Winship with Hesketh father. It is no surprise then that the new will is in favor of the Widow and her unborn child.

“That’s why she was killed, because she came between the Hesketh’s fortune and the Hesketh next of kin!”

“We were drawn into it against our will, you must believe me!” It takes a moment before Merlin understand what is this “we” he is talking about, but suddenly, everything becomes clear.

“The four town elders. The Reverend performed the marriage, so of course he knew about it. Dr Lancaster attended the pregnant woman. Magistrate Valentine gave protection of the law. And you,” he points accusingly at the notary at this part, “you concealed the documents that had been entrusted to Hesketh faithful servant, Lee Unwin after he bear witness to the new will. That’s why the Hesketh had been quarrelling that night, a week before their murders. That’s why Lee Unwin was killed, because he knew too much. I can only presume that the Killians were murdered too because, as the Midwife of this village, Mrs. Killian knew of the Widow’s condition too!”

“We didn’t know it would come to this! I swear! I would have had no part in it if only I had known!” But the notary’s regrets come too late, too much blood has already been shed for the greed of one man.

“But it did, it did come to this, someone did go into the western woods and stole the skull of the Horseman to gain control over it! The head which must be restored to the Horseman before he will return to Hell! And that someone is Hesketh’s next of kin, Chester King!”

The old man finally crumples down at the accusation, giving Merlin the only confirmation he needed to know he was right. However, instead of his usual sense of triumph at having resolve such a mystery, Merlin feels rather nauseated.

How is he supposed to tell Roxanne that her father is behind all this?

*

In the end, there is no time to either confront Chester King with his new evidence or to talk with Roxanne.

Because of the Killians' murders and the discovery that the Horseman won’t stop at a locked door, the Reverend has called for a town meeting, hoping that the sacred grounds of the Church are going to be enough to hold the devilish ghost at bay.

Only Harry is waiting for them at the house, urging them on. Merlin is tempted to tell him about his findings, but at the same time he doesn’t know how loyal the young man is to Chester King, if he would warn him and give him the possibility to flee from judgement.

They arrive at the Church nearly at the same time as Chester King, the man looking as if he’s seen a ghost, which isn’t far from the truth.

“The Horseman, it’s coming! It killed Gazelle!”

The last stragglers rush inside at that announcement, the women screaming in fear, gathering their children in their arms while most of the men take place at the windows with their muskets and ready to fire under Harry’s leadership. He might know bullets won’t stop the Horseman, but he’ll be damned if he goes down without fighting. Merlin can only admire him for it.

He goes to the front of the Church where the three remaining town elders have gathered around Chester King, accusing him of having orchestrated everything since the beginning. King is protesting of course, claiming his innocence, and even if only an hour earlier would have condemned him without hesitation, he finds he is now doubting his earlier conclusion.

Of course, all evidences seem to point to the man, but now that he thinks of it, he cannot really see King as truly benefiting from the crimes. He was already influential enough in the village and Hesketh’s son losing his inheritance in favor of some unborn child would only have only cement it further. True, their deaths meant the very possible gain of a fortune, but from what he know of the man, wealth comes second to power and influence in his book.

And that is not mentioning the recent murder of his new wife.

Something definitely doesn’t add up in his theory.

The doctor starts confessing the secret about Hesketh father and Widow Winship’s marriage and the subsequent pregnancy when he is attacked by the Reverend while the notary cowers in fear and King looks on in confusion.

Merlin is too late to save from a fatal blow to the head by the Reverend and to stop King from taking possession of the dead man’s gun in the commotion. There is very little he can do except for looking as King and the Reverend struggle, until King finally shoot his opponent.

“Stay back!” The panicked order would be ridiculous in a room full of men if they weren’t otherwise engage in keeping the Horseman away and if not for the gun still in his hand. “Stay back or I’ll shoot you!”

“King, stop this madness! There need not be more blood spilled tonight,” Merlin tries to reason him, to no avail. The man is obviously lost to terror and rightly so.

“Merlin get him away from that window!”

Unfortunately, Harry’s warning comes too late, a stake thrown from the outside limits of the Church impaling King through his chest. Before anyone can react, King gets pulled back through the window.

He rushes to the window at the same time as Roxanne, but they can only watch, helpless, as the Horseman cuts off his head.

Witnessing her father’s death proves too much for the young woman and with a horrified gasp, she faints, Merlin barely fast enough to catch her before she falls on the ground.

He stares in confusion at the piece of pink chalk that falls to the ground from her loosened rip, but the feeling doesn’t stay long when he notices both Eggsy and Harry staring at the floor a bit past the two dead men.

There he can see that the same symbol that had been under his bed has been traced in pink chalk.

The Evil Eye.

He feels his heart break at the only conclusion he can come at this new turn of events and he looks at the unconscious woman in his arms with newfound horror.

So _she_ had been the one behind this evil plot all along.

He nearly lets her fall from his gentle hold at the realisation she’s played them all for fools since the beginning.

But Merlin truly is a fool, because no matter her trickery and darkened soul, he cannot fight the affection he feels for her.

*

“Merlin… You can’t truly believe… I mean Roxy cannot have anything to do with all that's been happening!”

It is the morning after the tragedy at the Church and Merlin is only waiting for his carriage to arrive so that he can finally leave that cursed place behind and forget everything that has happening during his stay. He shakes his head sadly at the thought.

As if the events have not already been etched indelibly in his memory.

“I’m sorry Master Unwin, I can’t ignore all the evidences.”

Without saying goodbye, he leaves the house where Roxanne is still lying in bed, not having regained consciousness since she fainted. He looks at the house one last time and climbs into the carriage that will bring him back to the city. He completely ignores Harry, the man only just now arriving on his horse to King’s House. Harry seems surprised by Merlin’s sudden rudeness, but the constable doesn’t stay to hear what he’s discussing with Eggsy.

Once seated, he wonders if he will get his job as a constable back even if he hasn’t made any arrest. He really should have, but no matter what he had told Roxanne, he couldn’t bring himself to truly believe the conclusion he had come to.

Curse his damned sentimentality!

His musings are soon interrupted by knocks on his window and he is unsure whether or not he should be surprised to see that Harry is now riding along the carriage.

“Harry, stop being ridiculous, you’ll kill yourself or cause an accident!”

“Only if you stop being such a bloody idiot! Roxy never woul-”

Whatever Roxanne never would do is lost when Harry needs to abruptly stop because part of the road is taken by the coffin cart.

Merlin is about to turn away and intent on ignoring Harry once he catches up to him again, convinced it would take long until the man finally leaves him be, when he notices something most peculiar on the hand of Lady King’s cadaver.

“Stop, stop the carriage now!”

His driver does so without any delay and he doesn’t need to look to know Harry is probably looking smugly triumphant when he steps out.

“Not a word,” he warns him preemptively, before walking purposefully to the mortuary workers. “I need to examine this corpse.” They look very uncertain about his demand, but his dark look combined with Harry’s stern ‘let him do as he pleases' is enough to make them shrug and let him do whatever he wants.

*

Unsurprisingly, Harry is still waiting for him when he gets out, but his smug look disappears as soon as he notices Merlin’s worried expression.

“What is it?”

“The wound on Mrs King’s hand has been inflicted post mortem…”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks as he climbs back onto his horse, offering Merlin a hand so that he can ride behind him. It might be dangerous, but it’ll also be the fastest way to travel and every seconds count.

“It means Roxanne is in grave danger.”

*

Merlin had had hopes never to see the Tree of the Dead again, so of course their last stand-off would have to be on its ground just to throw him more off balance.

He doesn’t know yet what is Gazelle’s motive for having done all this, simple greed seeming not complex enough a reason to explain the woman’s evilness. Right now however, his curiosity will have to stay unsatisfied if he wants to survive the night.

He has already proven luckier than anyone should have been when the bullet that should have killed him was stopped by the book Roxanne had given him and that he had kept in his inside pocket since that night.

It seems like she had been right when she had told him that it would protect him.

He can only hope Harry has been as lucky as he himself was and that his decision to face the Horseman alone to buy them some time won’t spell his doom. He has to admit he’s grown rather fond of the man and that he has even started considering him a friend. Which has practically never happened in his life before.

This is about the time the Horseman reappear and Merlin doesn’t know whether to take the absence of Harry’s head in his hands as a good or a bad sign.

He doesn’t spare more than a second thinking about his friend’s well-being, not when Gazelle has a hold on Roxy and is beaconing the Horseman to take her head. However, even if he hasn’t been hurt by the bullet, he still has had the wind knocked out of him and he is still feeling dizzy from having hit the ground head first. He would need but a moment to get the bag containing the Horseman’s skull hanging from Gazelle’s horse and that she isn’t paying any attention to.

“Here, take her! She’s yours!” Focused on the Horseman, Gazelle doesn’t notice Eggsy running up to Roxanne’s help, but Merlin does.

“The bag! Take the bag!” The lad stops a second in confusion to process what Merlin has yelled and it’s nearly a second too long, Gazelle whipping around to protect the bag, but Eggsy is quicker and grabs it before she can.

Roxanne isn’t so fast however and even if Gazelle has relinquished her hold on her, the Horseman grips her by the hair before she can escape.

“The skull! Throw it to him!”

Eggsy doesn’t waste a second to obey the order and throws the skull at the Horseman just before his blade can come down on the young woman’s throat.

“No!”

Gazelle’s scream echoes in the forest, but it is too late, already the Horseman is putting his head back where it belongs and they watch in disgust as muscles, veins, tendons and skin all form back again around it.

Having getting his breath back, Merlin is just in time to knock Gazelle off her horse before she can think of fleeing. She isn’t going down without a fight however, and only the Horseman intervention saves Merlin from being stabbed by the knife she had concealed on herself.

The Horseman lifts her onto his horse effortlessly, as if he cannot feel her struggling. In fact, he seems to find it amusing and Merlin finds himself disturbed by how fondly he looks at the woman. The bruising kiss he gives her, the Hessian not careful in the least with his sharp teeth, will probably haunt his dreams for a long time.

But not as much as the terrified screams Gazelle lets out when the Horseman rides back to the Tree of the Dead, the gateway to hell having been opened as soon as he got his head back again. He nearly feels bad for her, but she is merely reaping what she sow. He has no doubts that even if they had not intervene, this is what would have been her fate one day. At least now, she won’t be killing anyone else.

He doesn’t think about it very long however, not when he suddenly finds himself within Roxanne’s embrace. He is overflowed with relief at feeling her against his body, safe and whole, even if she is still shaking from the shock of it all. Or maybe it is him, it is hard to know.

He presses a kiss against her hair, letting her perfume fill his senses and he jumps in fright at the sound of hoofbeats getting closer. But since both Roxy and Eggsy have the same reaction to the sound, he feels no shame about it.

Fortunately, instead of another nameless horror, it is only Harry emerging from the mist. The man looks rather worse for wear, but he is alive and when Eggsy runs up to him to assist him in dismounting, Merlin thinks he probably has a very similar smile when he looks at the lad as the one Merlin is sporting when he looks at Roxanne.

*

“You're sure you can’t come with us Harry, there is more than enough space in the carriage!”

Merlin can see the lad’s pout is wearing thin his friend’s resolve and he decides to intervene before he lets himself be swayed.

“Eggsy, Harry needs to stay a while so that his and Roxanne’s affairs are put in order. He’ll join us soon enough in New York.” Eggsy turns his puppy look toward him, not having learned already that Merlin is rather immune to its effect. Roxanne’s is another matter entirely, but luckily enough, she has elected to stay out of the particular discussion, even if she is looking at the three men with amused fondness. “Now, say your goodbyes and let us be on our way. To sooner you stop pestering him, the sooner he’ll focus on what needs to be done and consequently, the sooner he’ll join us.”

He nods at his friend before helping Roxanne into the carriage and following her, leaving them a moment of privacy, at least as much privacy as farewells in the middle of the road in broad daylight can offer. Not that anything more would have happened behind closed door in the middle of the night, not since he isn’t sure Eggsy is entirely aware of what lies between them, no matter how obvious his feelings seem to others that bother looking. He knows Harry would never pressure Eggsy into anything and for now, friendship is still the only thing between them.

He’s shaken out of his thoughts by Roxanne’s kiss, the young woman smiling cheekily, much like she had been their first meeting.

“So what are you going to tell your superiors once we get back?”

“The truth… Mostly.”

He had thought hard about it, and decided that most of the story could be reported back and he didn’t need to lie so much as he needed to left some parts of the story out. As far as his superiors would be concerned, the murders would have been committed by a crazed woman, hellbent on getting reparation for her family getting evicted from their lands back when she had been a child. Gazelle King, formerly Archer, had used the legend of the Horseman to hide her involvement, spreading fear among the townspeople, killing everyone who had stood in her way to inherit her family’s previous landlord’s fortune. She had gone so far as to kill her own twin sister, who had been living peacefully in the western woods, to be able to fake her death convincingly.

This report would probably be satisfying enough for his superiors, even if he wasn’t bringing back the criminal to let her face justice. Knowing the men he worked for, her death would be justice enough and he would have no trouble being reinstated as a constable. He might have to lay low for a while, however much it would grate on him, but it was a small price to pay to keep his job and to not be send to the asylum if he ever revealed the truth about Sleepy Hollow.

Truly, there is no need to mention a witch’s pact with the Devil, no need to mention a Horseman rising from the death to do her bidding. Nor there is a need to talk of a young woman’s attempts to protect everyone with protection sigils that had been mistaken for evil magic the time.

In any cases, he would probably be far too busy adjusting to his new life with Roxanne, as well as Eggsy and Harry, to really be bothered by any happenings in the constabulary.

Feeling truly happy and content for one of the first time in his life since his mother’s death, he kisses Roxanne again, only leaning away once Eggsy joins them into the carriage and starts complaining about not wanting to be looking at their gross displays of affection for the duration of the travel.

“You better be getting used to it lad. Don’t forget you’ll be living with us.”

His mumbled answer that he would be staying hiding in his room makes Roxanne laugh and Merlin joins her when Eggsy gives her a betrayed look.

Life truly is looking up.


End file.
